Reason
by Chiblets
Summary: America has been practically begging for Britain to sleep with him, but he keeps getting shot down without a reason. What exactly is Britain's reason?


"C'mon, Iggy, please?"

A long, frustrated sigh occupied the silence that followed the plea.

"…Please…?"

"No, and that's my final answer, Alfred!"

The crestfallen American shifted closer to his irritated boyfriend on the couch. "But you never want to…"

Britain remained silent where he was, finding no way to appropriately respond. Alfred frowned at the lack of cooperation on the Brit's part and decided to use another approach since the pouting and whining obviously was failing. The American smirked, snaking his arms around Britain's middle and pulling the surprised blonde into his lap in a quick motion. This provoked a startled gasp from the Brit.

"Come now, Arthur, you know you want to," Alfred whispered, breathing hot air into the other's ear.

"_Come now, Angleterre, there's no denying what you want to do with big brother, mon cher~!"_

Arthur froze, his blood running cold and goose bumps instantly arising at the snippet of the memory he preferred to forget. Hearing France's voice echoed in his head made his skin crawl. It wasn't often that the memory of that particular night resurfaced, and Arthur liked to keep it that way. However, now he had no control over which portions of the memory would reveal themselves or when they would show up. Unknowingly, Alfred sparked the return of preferably forgotten trauma of the Englishman's past.

"_Oh, mon __trésor, you're so cute with that look on your face," the Frenchman purred, sending a chill down the spine of the nation under him. _

"_Fr-Francis, get off me, you frog!"_

_Smirking darkly, Francis placed a kiss on the mouth of the Brit to silence him._

Rough hands suddenly found the metal buttons of his blazer, snapping him out of his tiny flashback. The Brit shook, a long forgotten terror overwhelming him as those hands worked to slowly undo the buttons. Arthur frantically grasped the hands, hindering their progress and earning an agitated huff from the American.

"N-no, Alfred, I mean it," Britain pleaded softly, keeping a firm grip on the other's hands.

Alfred frowned, disappointed that he wasn't having his way with his partner, and studied Britain in hopes to find some clue as to what was making his boyfriend so noncompliant. Immediately, the American picked up the most obvious detail about Arthur. He was trembling, which was something very uncharacteristic for the prideful United Kingdom. The Englishman's breathing didn't seem to be right either as far as Alfred could tell; in fact, much to his very surprise, it sounded like Arthur was on the verge of having a panic attack. America couldn't possibly understand why, and this only alarmed him. Normally he could tell what was bothering his Igirisu, but now he has no inkling as to what had Arthur reduced to such a state. Sighing, Alfred realized that this was not the time to be trying to seduce the Brit. No matter how much he wanted to, it wasn't worth seeing his boyfriend so distressed. Besides, he was hero, and heroes didn't pressure their loved ones like this. Under _any_ circumstances.

"I'm sorry, Iggy," Alfred mumbled, somehow managing to free his hands of Arthur's death grip. "I didn't mean to scare you, dude."

Britain quickly shook his head, as if to deny that he had indeed been frightened. He hugged himself, shuddering as yet another fragment of that horrid memory entered his mind. Hoping to push it down and ignore it, he tightly shut his eyes; however, that only proved to make the image more vivid.

"_Angleterre, those cute little noises you're making will be the death of me,"_

_Arthur harshly bit down on his quivering bottom lip, mentally cursing Francis for forcing this on him. He hated it. This degrading feeling made him burn with embarrassment. He wanted it to stop. He wanted the pain to stop. Arthur knew it wouldn't stop. Francis wouldn't let it._

"…Iggy…?"

Britain snapped himself out of his reverie and opened his eyes, thankful for the interruption. He turned slightly in America's lap to blankly gaze at him. The look that the American was giving him was one of concern.

"Are you ok…? You don't look so good…"

"I-I'm fine…don't worry about it," Arthur whispered, flushing softly with embarrassment. He moved off his American boyfriend's lap and seated himself at the furthest end of the couch, away from Alfred.

A long silence passed between the two nations, one too ashamed to speak and the other heavily contemplating the situation.

"Iggy?" Alfred broke the silence with the playful pet name Arthur tolerated.

Arthur dared a glance at him. "Hm?"

"Why?"

The simple question rocked the Englishman to the core. He stared on in shock. He'd honestly expected it for some time, but of all times it just had to be now, didn't it? He and Alfred had been together for a while, so he admitted that he owed his partner an explanation. But what would he say? What could he say? How would he even begin…?

"Just be honest with him, Arthur, and everything will be ok!" the voice of one of Britain's magical friends, Flying Mint Bunny, startled him.

Arthur blinked at the flying bunny hovering in front of him and fearfully gazed at his friend. The advice given was the best he could possibly get, and he knew Flying Mint Bunny was right. It was best to be honest. He needed to tell Alfred; however, Arthur found that this was much easier said than done.

"I-I can't. He wouldn't understand, Bunny," Britain responded quietly, but not quite enough to go unnoticed by Alfred's ears.

"Dude, who are you talking to?" Alfred's eyes shone briefly with amusement. "One of your imaginary friends?"

Britain released a heavy sigh and ran his fingers through his hair, shaking his head in response. "No one, just forget it."

"So you gonna answer my question now?"

"No,"

Alfred, looking genuinely concerned, sat Indian style on the couch and stared at Arthur.

"Is it something I did?"

"No…,"

"Are you sure? Because if I'm doing something wrong-"

"It's not you, Alfred,"

America furrowed his eyebrows in slight irritation. "Then what is it?"

"I-I'd rather not say…,"

"Iggy…," the American whined, blue eyes begging for an answer.

"Alfred, I just can't," Arthur attempted to keep his cool, but the insistent pleading and whining on Alfred's part were not helping. He was going to snap. He could feel it coming on.

"I just want to know why you keep turning me down!" Alfred frowned. "I can't help but feel like it's something I did. It sucks, dude."

Arthur jumped to his feet, turning to Alfred with a rather emotionally unstable appearance. "You really want to know that badly?"

America was taken aback by the outburst, but nonetheless nodded.

"Francis raped me, git!" Arthur growled, his tone seething with anger.

Gaping, the American could do nothing but stare at Britain in stunned silence. The Brit took a deep breath to calm himself.

"It was after you gained your independence," he spoke, much quieter now that his shame had been discovered. Uncomfortable facing Alfred, he turned his back on his boyfriend. "I wasn't in the best shape…I was thoroughly convinced that I'd lost you completely."

Alfred shook his head and lowered his gaze to his hands, guilt coursing through him. If he'd only known…

Britain went on. "I needed someone to talk to, and though Francis and I weren't on the best of terms I thought he would listen to me." He sighed unevenly, wringing his hands together in nervousness. "We had a couple of drinks and things went downhill quickly…he's my brother…so I never thought he'd…" the Brit fell silent. There was no need for him to go on.

Stillness was once again prevalent in the tense air shrouding the two nations. Neither at this point knew what to say or think. Britain was only hoping for acceptance; America, however, was dumbstruck and had no response prepared. What he had learned shocked him. Alfred imagined various reasons why Arthur refused to sleep with him. Fear was one. His own approach to the subject was another possibility. Being a victim of rape was something that Alfred would've never guessed. Arthur was always to dignified, carrying himself with a strong sense of pride. How was Alfred to know?

Alfred lifted his head, taking in his Igirisu's appearance best he could. Even with the Englishman's back turned, America could tell he wasn't feeling good. Britain's head was bowed and he had one hand raised to his face, the other clenched by his side. Alfred hated to see this, so he rose to his feet and crossed over to Arthur in a couple of large strides. When he approached, he noticed with a start that Britain was crying. Arthur hardly ever cried. The last time Alfred could recall seeing something close to tears from Arthur was during the American Revolution. But that was nothing compared to what he was witnessing now. Tears flowed freely and without a sound out of the Brit's forest green eyes.

Without a word America comfortingly secured an arm around Britain's shoulders, causing Britain to blush and move his hand away from his face to glance at the American questioningly. Even in an emotional state such as this, Arthur was very prideful. Alfred decided that his boyfriend would just have to get over it and tilted Arthur's face up slightly, leaning over and capturing Britain's lips in a gentle, lingering kiss.

"I can't tell you enough how sorry I am for your pain," Alfred breathed, hugging Arthur gently to him, "and no matter how many times I say it I know it won't make it go away. I'm here for you whenever you need me though, Iggy. I'm not going anywhere, and I promise I won't ever hurt you like that."

Arthur stared in wonder at Alfred, obviously not expecting such mature words from the normally immature nation. He tried to appear as nonchalant as possible as he wiped his tears away, but he was truthfully touched by the promise and an unmistakable gleam of happiness and gratitude shone brightly in the previously tear ridden eyes.

"I'll hold you to that promise, idiot," Britain said, failing in his attempt to keep his tone neutral. The same emotions shining in his eyes revealed themselves through his voice.

America picked up on this and grinned. "I know you will." He placed a kiss on Britain's forehead and held him tighter.

Abandoning his silly pride, Arthur returned the grin and hugged Alfred back, hiding his blushing face in the American's chest. "…I love you, git."

Alfred chuckled quietly, his cheeks reddening softly. "I love you too, Iggy."


End file.
